


Queen under the Mountain

by scarlettvictoria



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Romance, Sappy Dwalin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:39:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4169766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlettvictoria/pseuds/scarlettvictoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Battle of the Five Armies and the death of male heirs of Durin, rule of Erebor falls into the hands of the next in line; their sister. She takes up the throne and proceeds to rule her new kingdom as she also tries to deal with the grief of losing her family, but she does not have to do it alone....she finds comfort in the form of a tattooed warrior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queen under the Mountain

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first LOTR/Hobbit story ever. It popped into my head and well....here it is. I originally wanted this to be a oneshot but I don't think its going to work out that way. I want to sort of....develop it a little. So we'll see how this goes. I hope you guys like it! 
> 
> Note: The title of this is subject to change and I might add chapter titles later but for now this is what I have.

Throughout the time of Middle Earth, rumors and stories have drifted through the land. Some were true but most were nothing more than exaggerated tales or children’s tales turned into songs. Each race had their own specific traits, songs, rumors, etc. Not all were true but many of them could be speculated and deemed true based on little evidence. One of these rumors comes from the Dwarves, concerning the royal line of Durin. Dwarves are typically all the same in manner and in appearance but it had been said that a Dwarve married into the royal line was not of full Dwarvish decent. There had been many whispers passed around for over a century of one of his parents line having Elvish or Dunedain heritage, for many of his decedents did not bare completely, the typical characteristics of Dwarves. 

Many among the Dwarves thought this rumor to be simply that and nothing more, but this one was shown to be true. After the fall of Erebor to the terrible dragon Smaug, the remaining Dwarves took refuge in the Blue Mountains where they settled and started a new life. But the loss of the great kingdom of Erebor never left their minds. Life continued on. 

Most of the remaining Dwarves that survived the dragon and the Battle of Azanulbizar sought ways to continue on and pick up life from where it left off, trying to piece everything back together. The remaining members of the line of Durin were among these souls. Thorin did his best to band together his people and lead a new life in the Blue Mountains along with his sister. Dis. With the help of a few other companions, Thorin raised Dis, teaching her about the past and the glorious days of their lost kingdom. She grew up with the tales in her heart and longed to return to her original home. 

But it would never come to pass. Not long after she came of age she met a craftsmen by the name of Narvi and fell in love. Over the span of their life together they had two boys named Fili and Kili. Though they did not expect to have any more children, just two years after Kili was born they welcomed a third child into their family. A daughter, who they named after Dis’ older brother who passed away very young in the Battle of Azanulbizar to honor his memory. Frerin was a very happy child and her childhood matched her attitude. Her young life was filled with love and she being the only daughter of Dis, she was spoiled by her family and friends, especially by her brothers, her uncle and a few of his older friends. 

As time wore on and the children grew, the rumors circled around again as the decedents of Durin aged but did not show the typical Dwarvish features. The boys could grow beards but it did nothing to hide their charming looks. But it is little Frerin that received the most whispers. Each year that passed she grew more lovely and curious, more like an Elf rather than a Dwarve. Her hair flowed down her back sleek and straight, not frizzy or curly like other of her folk. Her hands were not as large or as rugged as others nor did she not fully possess the thick build of a Dwarve. The typical stubbornness and pride of the race did not show through the girl and lead the others of her kind to label her Durin’s Elf Princess, though she didn’t mind the title. 

But not all of her tale is happy. After the death of her father and mother, Fili, Kiki and she were left in the care of their uncle Thorin who did his best to raise them along with the help of his closest Dwarve friends. They all received battle training by Dwalin and were taught the rules of their royalty as well as their history from Balin and Thorin. Frerin took it upon herself to seek out Oin and learn the ways of healing which came in handy when her brothers would come home scraped up and banged up from whatever trouble they got themselves into.

It had always been in their mind that they could one day return to the Lonely Mountain and see the home that Thorin and Dis spoke so fondly of. Fili and Kili wanted it desperately. Frerin wanted only to remain by her family’s side and see to their safety. And she did get her wish until Thorin returned one day from searching for his father which was in vain. He spoke of a wizard that had presented him with the idea of getting together a company to set up on a quest to reclaim their homeland. As happy as she was about the thought of living under the mountain with her family, a fear crept through her when both her brothers jumped to the opportunity to join Thorin’s company along with ten other Dwarves, most she had known all her life as they had either been teacher or friend. She tried her best to get them to reconsider and stay with her, pulling tricks and stunts to get them to stay with her but it was all for naught. Only a few months after Thorin returned with the idea for the quest, they all bid her farewell with the promise of returning once they reclaimed Erebor. Frerin cried for a fortnight for their departure but knew that she must maintain her image as a decedent of Durin and continue on with her life. 

The days wore on and turned into weeks and before she had realized it months had swept by since the last she had seen any of her family. Autumn crept slowly by and turned into winter when word had spread that Smaug had been slain but it did nothing to soothe her fears for no word of Thorin, Fili, or Kili had been uttered in that news. By the time the news of a great battle outside the Lonely Mountain reached her secluded region of the Blue Mountains, two of the company had returned to her. 

One day after returning home from her job as a jeweler, she was bustling about her small home when a knock sounded from the front door. Ever since she had been ambushed while out on a business trip the year before (similar to the way her parents perished), Frerin made it her duty to not venture out too far of the mountains so as she approached the door she was wary of who could be visiting her. Then the thought of her brothers and uncle outside the door sparked something deep inside her which made her rush over and pull the door open hastily, forgetting to grab the dagger that she concealed in her waistband. What she did not expect to see were two older Dwarves on her step; the sons of Fundin, her lifetime friends and teachers. A light sparked in her eyes as she hurried them inside and shut the door. She had so many questions to ask but the first that left her was about her brothers and their wellbeing. She waited in anticipation with a smile and looked between the two men, noticing how their expressions turned dark and sad. Balin was the first to speak and came to her, urging her to sit down before he would tell her. 

Her smile waivered but she did as asked and glanced to his brother, finding him quiet and restrained as usual when he was around her, before turning her attention about to the other. Balin took her hand in his and gave her a grave look as he explained what occurred outside of the Lonely Mountain. As he came to the end of the tale, she looked quickly between the two of them and jerked her hand away, demanding them to tell her of Thorin and her brothers. Of where they are and what happened to them and why they had not returned for her. At this outburst, Dwalin looked down as Balin quietly stated that they had fallen in battle and were buried in the tombs of Erebor. 

Disbelief and grief grabbed hold of her, squeezing tightly around her heart. This could not be true. They had promised to return to her and celebrate the taking of their homeland. They were to feast, sing, dance around the main hall and tell the stories of their journey and of the great battle that they had won. Those images quickly left her mind and were replaced by morbid ones of her family lying in cold, grey tombs deep in the mountain where they would rot and decompose and memories of them would fade with time until there was nothing but names left on pages and songs that would be forgotten over time. She begin to weep, forgetting the composure that most Dwarves had especially when learning of their kin’s passing but she was no ordinary Dwarve. Balin quickly took her in his arms and stroked her hair, trying to comfort and soothe her by telling her that they would be in the afterlife with the rest of her family and would continue to watch over her fondly from beyond. This did nothing to comfort her as this now left her alone in the world. 

Frerin was not given much time to stay at home and grieve for her loss since the two had come to escort her to her new home in Erebor. Balin stated that since Thorin had passed along with her brothers who were the next in line, the rule of Erebor fell on her shoulders. After packing up enough of her belonging –after being told that she would not need any of it for she would have all she needed in Erebor- she proceeded to give her home to a family in need (rather unDwarve-like) and set off to the Lonely Mountain with her two old friends. Within a week she had given up one life for another, losing everything but also gaining everything. 

When they arrived upon the Lonely Mountain, many who saw her offered their condolences for her family’s passing but each one she received only made her grief worse. 

Within a matter of days, Frerin was declared Queen under the mountain –the first in history- and appointed Dwalin as her captain of the guard and put both brothers on her council. As time wound on, she ruled Erebor with grace unlike other Dwarve lords which lead to the whispers of her nickname throughout the kingdom. It did not bother her to hear her referred to as Durin’s Elf princess since she had heard it all her life. It sounded different coming from her pupils rather than the joking manner that she was accustomed to hearing from her brothers. 

A celebration was held to honor the new and first Queen of Erebor but she could not truly partake in the festivites for her heart was gripped with pain and sorrow. While the surviving Dwarves from the Iron Hills along with her uncle's company drank and ate merrily, Frerin slipped away and headed towards her chambers to retire for the night. Her heart and mind were not in the right place to join their merry celebration and honestly the events of the last fortnight had drained her. She knew when she woke in the morning that there was much to do about the repayment to the people of Laketown and to King Thranduil would take place early in the day. As much as she was not looking forward to the dawn, she started to get ready for bed when there was a knock upon her door. Grabbing her dagger out of habit, she crept close to the wooden door and spoke softly, "Who is there?" 

"My Lady, I just came to see if ye was alright," a gruff voice replied. It took a few moments for her mind to register that it was Dwalin that had followed her before she opened the door to peek out. He stood tall as always, looking down at her with that stern gaze she always saw on his features. Ever since she was a child it sent shivers down her back and made her feel sheepish and small under his gaze. Even now she began to feel like a child that was about to be scolded for something. 

"I'm fine, Master Dawlin. Just....in need of rest. It has been a very trying time for me, you understand. I just want to rest..." Her voice became softer as her sentences went on until it trailed off completely. Why did she always have to feel like this around him? It was that look he gave her. She didn't know how be anything but a child around him. Straightening slightly. Frerin looked up at him and tried her best to channel her uncle's leader demeanor. 

But the male Dwarve was unfazed by her attempt and meerly nodded, stating, "As you wish, My Lady. I'll meet ye at first light in the main hall to have talks with the men and elves." And with that he turned and walked back down the hall to the party. She quickly closed the door and snuffed out the candles, dropping back onto the bed. As she gazed up at the ceiling, she began to wonder if she could put those lessons to use and become the ruler her uncle had been. Tucking the dagger under her pillow, Frerin pulled the blanket up over her body and sighed, willing herself to sleep, not dream, and for morning light to come slower than usual.


End file.
